personal nagasaki

what is the price of fear?
what is the price of truth?

a young woman buys frosted
mini carrot cakes with walnuts
to celebrate picking up her lover

she sees him run to her car
in her rear view mirror

she licks icing off her fingers
turns around to watch him

he walks.

he gets in the car.

instead of kissing her smile
he dashes it with a letter

after the contents of the truth
and the un-truths and the half-truths
have been displayed

he tells her she has to quit crying
not to be so dramatic
he tries to drive her away, drive her
home

she cannot go home with him
she needs the car to stop
she needs the ride to stop

needing safety, she drives to
the office of her therapist
a man at work
he has a client
she is crying louder than
she has heard herself before

the building reacts as though
there has been a bomb
women pour out of a girl scout office
can i help you?
do you need to use the phone?

she calls her sister.
in her grief and tears
she says you have to come down
her sister wants to say okay
but she has to work, she has
meetings

she never says what happened
their dad is not dead.

a woman working in the building
comes outside, says wait, don't
drive like this.

she drives anyway. there is no way
to explain.

he put money in the envelope
keys, words. she reads them,
trying to find how this black and white
can in any way match her love and her truth

her hopes

a river flows, and then a boulder drops.
the river learns to flow
not get too excited,
not get too grateful
it learns to value the price
of peace.

can there be peace without truth?
how much does that cost?

he always wanted to know
how much was that doggy in the window
he did hope that doggy's for sale
he took home that doggy in the window
before he went and chopped off her tail.